His hand catches my wrist, grasping it firmly. Enough for my breathing to hitch. My pulse jumps violently, my fingers go numb, and a cold rush sweeps through me. I freeze, waiting for the shift in his voice, the change in his eyes.
He cups my face instead, turning me back toward him. For a moment, his expression shifts. The version of him I first believed in flickers to the surface. Then he kisses me.
I hesitate for half a heartbeat too long before I respond. My mind splinters, torn between instinct and survival. The hesitation feels like a crack in the mask I’ve worn for years. My plan wavers, the exit almost disappears.
Then he pulls back.
His hand stays on my jaw, holding me in place just long enough for the warmth to drain from the moment.
“Be there at six, Elijah,” he says quietly. “Not a minute later.”
I hold his gaze, and I smile. “Six sharp.”
He releases me, and I walk out the door.
And I don’t look back.
Because I remember everything else. The bruises. The fear. The years of shrinking myself down to survive in my own life. And I remember Marge. I remember Ree.
So I keep walking. Each step feels heavier than the last, but I don’t stop. My chest tightens, my throat burns, but the movement feels like the first real choice I’ve made in years.
* * *
Hours later, I stand on the deck of the ferry as it pulls me away.
The wind cuts sharp against my skin, but I don’t care. I’ve never felt anything like this before. My lungs expand fully for the first time in months. The wind stings my eyes, but it feels clean, sharp, alive. Like breathing without permission.
It’s movement. Escape.
The shoreline shrinks behind me, slowly dissolving into grey water and mist. For the first time in years, no one knows where I am. And that freedom is almost unbearable.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I had turned the location services off, halfway to the hospital. I stopped, shut everything down, and changed direction,heading back for Marge’s place instead. That’s where they were waiting, and when Marge insisted I take her car, I argued. She won.
I couldn’t carry everything on my bike, so we packed the car carefully. My bag. My documents. Everything that had started to feel like a life I wasn’t allowed to have.
Marge pressed an envelope into my hand. “For emergencies,” she said simply.
Ree hugged me like she wasn’t sure she could let go. “Find your happiness, El. You deserve every good thing that comes next.”
Then she handed me a burner phone. “Our numbers are in it. We’ve got yours too. Get rid of the old one before you stop anywhere.”
“Okay,” I said. And then I drove away. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw them standing on the road, both women strong and steady, waving until I couldn’t see them anymore.
* * *
Now, my phone won’t stop vibrating.
6:01 p.m.
Adrian.
Late.
The screen lights up again and again, his name flashing like a pulse I used to mistake for love. It stops. Starts again. Stops. Starts.
My chest tightens painfully. The vibration feels like a hand closing around my throat, pulling me back toward everything I’m trying to escape. I lean against the ferry railing, watchingthe dark water churn beneath me as the call keeps pulling at something inside my chest.
